On Knowing She's Our Last

Having our third (and final) child has already been a fascinating experience. Today Ruby is 5 weeks old. There is such a range of emotions with a newborn in the house, and it's definitely true that the last one brings its own unique set of experiences.

Knowing it's my last means I can acknowledge the parts I will miss. Like, the incredible miracle of seeing that positive pregnancy test; feeling those first flutters of movement and knowing a baby is moving and growing; excitement and wonder about what the gender is, and what name we will choose, and who this little person will become.

On the other hand, I was so ready to be done being pregnant. I won't miss feeling humongous and not being able to sleep on my stomach. I won't miss the nausea or having to pee every 5 minutes. I won't miss having no lap for my girls to sit on, or not being able to tie my own shoes, or the swollen feet. I'm looking forward to being able to exercise and know that every effort I make won't be in vain, since I won't be expecting another round of weight gain.

I won't miss everyone telling me how big I am. I won't miss maternity clothes, though since I can't fit into my regular clothes yet, I have yet to say goodbye to most of them. I look forward to the day I pack them away, though this time will feel different, knowing I won't be saving them for a potential "next time."

I won't miss the dread of potential labor pains and fear surrounding the birth. Yet, I can never replicate hearing that first loud squeal right after birth, when I'm so relieved to hear her crying and my heart is suddenly flooded with so much love that it feels like it could burst. I've been blessed to experience that three times in my life, and nothing will ever come close to the emotions and love I have felt in those first precious moments of relief mixed with tears of joy and thankfulness and awe of such perfect creation.

I won't miss being spit up on, but I will miss having a baby so small she can cuddle on my chest.

I won't miss waking up every 2-3 hours in the night to a deafening cry, but I will miss being able to soothe and comfort her when no one else can.

I won't miss the stress and soreness of those first few weeks of learning together how to nurse, but I am grateful I have the ability to provide nourishment for my child, and that we've figured it out. I'm thankful I have the option to nurse, that my body is strong and that I get enough nourishment myself to be able to feed my baby too. (I've been reflecting on this privilege because I know there are many women who would nurse if they could, but may be so malnourished or have other issues so that they can't produce the milk they need to adequately feed their baby).

I will miss the smallness of a newborn and those little frog legs that haven't stretched out yet.

I hope I don't forget how enamored Ellie and Hazel are with Ruby. I want to remember how much they love holding her and kissing her. How much they adore her little nose and feet and how excited they get when Ruby grabs ahold of one of their fingers. How Ellie constantly tells me how cute Ruby is. How Hazel calls Ruby, "mine." I want to remember those moments someday when I have three girls fighting and screaming over what I can only imagine to be my future with three girls.

I don't want to rush through these moments with Ruby as a newborn since I know they are the last. I'm trying to savor the parts that I know I will miss of this stage of life with my three sweet girls. 

It's going to be a crazy, wild ride. Not a day goes by that I don't remind myself what a blessing it is to have three amazing, beautiful, healthy little girls, none of which I want to take for granted.